


Best Vacation Ever

by Lusciousinpain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baker AU, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Sam, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutal Pining, PWP if you stare really hard and squint your eyes, Threesomes, Top Dean, Top Sam, Underage tag only because of past fondling, Unsafe Sex, Vacation AU, felchimg, self-hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusciousinpain/pseuds/Lusciousinpain
Summary: There's a secret between the two brothers. A lie they’ve been living. Like a mask that hides their true faces. A heaviness that's stifling, palpable.But Castiel also sees their need, their blinding heartbreak, and their unrequited yearning. Because it's in his heart too.He knows what he has to do.





	Best Vacation Ever

**Author's Note:**

> I have always been a diehard Dean/Castiel fan (OTP, OTP, OTP, till my dying breath) But lately, I've been hungering for something different, something more wicked, dirtier, and more scandalous. I wanted to expand on my characters' back grounds and relationships, as well as introduce conflicts I've never explored before. And what better way to do it than by throwing Sam into the mix.
> 
> So here it is folks, my first Dean/Sam/Castiel fuck fest fic  
> (try saying that fast three times)
> 
> Hope it satisfies.

 

This feels good.

No, scratch that, _this_ feels great. 

The sun, the the ocean breeze, the too sweet frozen cocktail with the frilly umbrella Dean will definitely make fun of - all of it, feels great. And it's exactly what Sam needs.

“Ahhh...” Sam inhales a cleansing breath, reclines his chaise as far back as it will go, then exhales, over long limbs relaxed, body coated in sunblock, sunglasses perched on his nose, and all of it, exactly what he-

"What the hell are you wearing?"

Sam doesn't startle easily, but leave it to his brother to make him jump, then spill his drink all over himself. "Thanks a lot, Dean." He grabs his towel and wipes at his chest, his thighs, dabs at his lap, all while complaining. "Damn it, now I have to go change."

Dean snorts, zeros in on Sam's large package, and unconsciously licks his lips. "You mean you brought more than one of those things to wear?" He asks, dropping his eyes and taking a step back, gut flooding with guilt. 

"It's called a speedo." Sam challenges, chin up, defensive. "And for your information, they're great for swimming, and sunbathing, and-"

"-leave nothing to the imagination."

Sam bristles. "Ha-ha, very funny." But he's not really upset, he knows his brother is cranky because he would would rather be anywhere but here, or with him, that work is his top priority right now, and that even though they aren't technically on a vacation, Dean agreed to stay at this particular beach resort (rather than a pocket friendly motel) simply because Sam asked him to.

But still, what a jerk. 

"And what the hell are you wearing?" Sam counters, bending over to clean up his area as best as he can.

Dean responds with a, "Phfft," takes a long pull from his beer, ogles Sam's perfect rear, and feels his pants grow tight; a sliver of untanned skin peeks past his brother's waist band, and a forbidden lust flares red-hot in Dean's chest. "Wha...what does it look like I'm wearing." He stammers, shame burning him hotter than the sun's rays.

"Jeans and a plaid shirt?" Sam rolls his eyes, "Dean, it's at least ninety degrees in the shade. You're liable to get heat-stroke. You're supposed to-"

"I'm supposed to be what?" Dean barks back, stepping under the umbrella because, yeah, it's fucking balmy out here, and even though slipping into his own trunks sounds like the best idea, he's not doing it, not with the likelihood of popping a boner because of Sam and his damn speedo. "Am I supposed to put my junk on display just because you say so? Huh? What the hell kind of impression will that give our new baker?"

"Jesus, is that all you care about?"

"Yes." Dean snaps, growing hotter and more agitated. "You bet your ass that's what I care about. Taking care of the business, making sure it keeps growing. We should be meeting this guy back home, on our turf, not in this ridiculous-"

"We're on vacation!"

"We're on a business trip." Dean sneers, lips pulled back. "We're here to interview our new baker!" He gets in Sam's face and jabs at his pectoral; the skin is soft, but firm, smooth and so fucking hot, Dean immediately drops his hand, and stumbles back, rubbing at his finger as if it got burned. "We're still on the job, Sammy. Okay? It's not over-"

"The meeting isn't until tomorrow!" Sam blasts back. "So do yourself a favor and go for a swim!" He gathers his supplies and dumps them in his bag. "Or do whatever the hell you want." He's irritated, disappointed, but trying his best to be understanding. "I'll be back in a minute." He mutters, fishing for his room key, then storming away without looking back.

...

Dean feels bad.

No, scratch that, Dean feels like shit.

They've been working non-stop for over a year now (no date nights, no parties, zero breaks) armed only with their drive to succeed, and a journal chockfull of their mother's best recipes. It was a grueling year, but in the end, all of their hard work paid off. And now, they're not only the proud owners of a thriving business, but also bosses to a hard working and reliable staff, any one of whom capable of managing the shop without needing either one of them there, for at least a couple days at a time.

So yeah, he and Sam have more than earned a long weekend of relaxation - a handful of days to regroup and recharge, as Sam put it. And of course Sam is right, he usually is about most things. But no matter how much Sam insists they take a break, Dean always refuses him. Not because he doesn't like to travel (on the contrary, Dean loves long road trips) but because going away with his brother means being alone with him, of having him near, in a tiny confined space, for long stretches of a time, just the two of them, with no distractions...

_Fuck_

No, there's no way Dean could resist that level of temptation.

And besides, Dean has never felt the need for a 'break'. He loves his job, loves the long hours, the people he meets, and especially how they praise and gobble up his baked goods. It would take a heck of a lot to get Dean to pack up and go.

Enter Charlie. 

When the creative force behind his bakery's fantastical cakes announced she was moving overseas to live with her Portuguese girlfriend, Dean had no choice but to step outside of his comfort zone, and go in search of her replacement. 

It's why he finally agreed to go on this specific trip, not because he and Sam need a vacation, but because Dean is hoping to lure the hot-shot baker Charlie met at this very same hotel, back to their small town, and hopefully convince him to join their fledgling bakery. 

But now the thought of mixing business with pleasure sits sour in Dean's stomach. "Damn it." He mutters, pissed at himself, ashamed of the way he acted, and vowing that from that point on, he's going to make sure Sam thoroughly enjoys the rest of their trip. Heck, he's even willing to help his baby brother get laid, if the opportunity presents itself. 

It's a eureka moment, and Dean smiles, because getting some action sounds like a great idea for him, as well; a good fuck to clean out the pipes, so to speak. "Yeah," he huffs, surreptitiously checking out the rows and rows of glossy, and mostly naked, sunbathers. But none catch his eye, and Dean deflates, shoulders drooping in disappointment. But he's use to that; he hasn't wanted to be with anyone (not really, not without upending his whole world) for a long, long, time.

...

Dean makes his way to elevator, offers his most pleasant smile to the people getting off, then dashes inside as soon as the last person exits. But he's so preoccupied with what he's going to say to Sam, as well as curbing his building excitement over their upcoming meeting, that he doesn't notice there's still one person getting out, and bumps into him so hard, he falls back. 

Dean loses his balance, but luckily a pair of strong arms keep him from hitting the floor. "Whoa," he gasps, embarrassed, but thankful, "dude, thanks for saving my ass." 

"I'm glad I was here to save it." His rescuer replies, blue eyes blatantly undressing Dean. "Are you alright?" He asks, voice whiskey smooth, like a tantalizing caress across Dean's cheek, hot and full of suggestion; the kind of voice that promises a great fuck and an unforgettable time. 

_Bingo_

"Yeah," Dean gulps, because holy shit, this guy is smoking hot, "I'm...great." He grins, amping up his own charm, draping his arms around the guy's bare shoulders, and closing the distance between their bodies.

They stand that way for a minute, for an hour, Dean doesn't know and he doesn't care, because this guy has managed to check off every single one of his boxes. "Uh, so you're staying in this hotel, too?" He asks, but it doesn't really matter, because this guy is a sure thing, and if the obvious bulge in his swim trunks is anything to go by, then Dean is pretty sure he won't mind being dragged back to his room, where they can get to know each other, a little more intimately; Dean just hopes Sam won't get too pissy when he locks him out. 

Mr. Gorgeous smiles, parts his kissable lips to reply, when out of nowhere a woman shouts, "Castiel! Hurry up with the sunblock!"

And just like that the spell is broken, and they jump apart. 

Castiel shrugs, says, "Sorry, I have to go." And reaches for the beach bag he dropped when he rescued Dean from falling. 

Dean shrugs too, like it's no big deal, like he's not seconds away from dropping to his knees and begging Castiel to leave with him, instead. "'Course man," Dean replies, disappointed, but doing his best not show it, "I'm sure your wife misses-"

"Anna is not my wife." Castiel laughs, adding with a seductive curl of lips, "She's my sister. And I am _not_ married-"

"Dean." Dean offers, shaking Castiel's hand and holding it for an inappropriately long shake, stomach doing nervous little flip flops. "My name is Dean."

A nod, a step closer, "My pleasure...Dean."

Dean has to lock his knees to keep from swooning; the way Castiel pronounces his name, how he rolls it around his tongue, like he can actually taste Dean if he pronounces it a certain way. "How about we go back to my-"

"Cassie!"

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, huffs, but when he looks back at Dean, he's smiling. "I hope we bump into each other again, Dean." Then another step and Castiel is right in Dean's personal space, lips close, so, so, close, and whispers, "Soon." 

And with that, Castiel shoulders his bag and walks towards the exit, but just before he steps through the glass double doors, he turns, throws Dean a wink, and Dean falls a little bit in love. Or is it lust? It doesn't matter, either way, Dean is going to fuck Castiel.

...

Dean stumbles into his room, shirt hanging around his neck, pants undone, hopping frantically on one foot to pull his boot off, and wondering what the fuck just happened. 

"Holy shit!" He cries out, out of breath, out of his mind, and definitely out of his depth. "I gotta go tell Sam." It's the first thing Dean wants to do. Well, more like the second thing; the first is to cum down Castiel's throat.

But first he needs to get into his bathing trunks and back downstairs, stat.

...

Dean is back outside in record time, scans the beach chairs for bright blue eyes and dark messy hair, but finds no sign of Castiel.

"Dean!" 

Dean spots his brother, takes one last thorough look around the immediate area, then makes his way towards Sam.

"Nice trunks." Sam teases, covering his smirk with his fist. "Want a drink?" He asks, waving to the waitress.

"No!" Dean says, sharper than he intended, and Sam's brow furrows.

"What's wrong with you, now?" 

"Nothing," Dean phffts, playing off his odd behavior with a shrug. "I'll go get the drinks." He offers, anxious to get back on the prowl. "Ah, it's the least I can do after making you spill yours." 

Sam frowns, because, weird, but then shrugs his own shoulders and replies, "Okay, but, ah, I was actually calling the waitress over so I could send a drink to this ah, well, there's someone I-"

"You met someone? Already?" Dean slaps his brother on the shoulder and sits down. "Jesus," he whistles, impressed, "you don't waste any time."

Sam blushes, because yeah, it was sudden, but he's been so lonely lately, and eager for...something, a connection, someone with whom to talk, and if it were to evolve into something more intimate, well then, it's not like his dick would complain. "It's just a drink, Dean. Geesh." 

But Dean wants to know more. "Which one is she?" He asks, looking everywhere and immediately spotting dozens of hot chicks. "Huh?" He prods, giving his brother a 'thumbs up', because this place really is paradise. 

_She?_

"Um," Sam is no prude, but he's also no braggart, and their conversations, especially lately, have all revolved around their business. But the truth is he hasn't had many dates in his life, not a single one for over a year, actually, so he can't really blame his brother for assuming the person he'd like to buy a drink for, is female. "Well, you see, it's not exactly a 'she'..."

"What?" Dean gasps, jaw dropping. He never really gave much thought to Sam's sexual preferences. Why would he? As far as he knows, Sam only ever dated girls. So Dean just always assumed that's what his brother liked. Girls. Not guys. Not dick. But pussy. Apparently Dean doesn't know shit. "A guy?"

"Yeah." Sam nods, face flaring red. 

"A male...man?" 

Sam laughs, and when he nods again, a prickle of jealousy coils cruelly around Dean's spine, and viciously settles there. 

But he needs to get past that shit, for Sam's sake, as well as for his own sanity.

He draws a deep breath. "Which one is _he_? Dean corrects, impressed with the steadiness of his voice. 

__

"He's right over-" Sam nods, cut off when a waitress appears and places a tray with drinks on their table. 

__

"Here you go guys." 

__

"Ah, thanks," Sam says, handing back the tray, "but we didn't order these." 

__

"I know." She smiles sweetly, knowingly. "They're from that gentleman in the red bathing trunks." She waves to a man sunbathing several rows away, then walks back to the bar. 

__

"Wait," Sam calls after her, "what's his name?" 

__

"It's Castiel." Dean replies, voice decibels deeper, and with his throat suddenly dry, picks up his drink, and drains it.

__

"How the hell do you know that?" Sam wants to know, nonplussed, and more than a little pissed that Dean already met someone that hot after only being here for one whole minute. "You just got here." He complains, jabbing his finger in his brother's chest. "I've been trying to catch Castiel's eye all afternoon. And then you walk out here, and a minute later, you, you're on first name basis with him?"

__

"Calm the fuck down." Dean says, hands up in surrender. "Look, he's yours, okay. He's not even my type." It's a lie, but like it or not (and Dean absolutely does not) he did vow to get his brother laid. "Go get em." Dean tells Sam, taking one last lingering look at Castiel, catching his eye, then shrugging, because he'd really love to fuck this guy, but at the same time, Dean wants - no, scratch that - Dean needs, his brother to have _this_ , even more.

__

"Seriously?" Sam asks, not convinced; Dean's offer is generous, fucking insane, as a matter of fact, and total bullshit. "Thanks, but ah, nice try. Last time I checked, Castiel is exactly your type: big blue eyes, dark hair, and male. So..." 

__

Dean shakes his head, gears up to argue, but Sam is ready for him, There's no way he's going to date someone that Dean liked first. That he likes...better.

__

They bicker and hiss at each other for the next several minutes, sun high and shining brightly over them, when a long dark shadow blocks the sun's rays, and makes the temperature climb. 

__

"Hello Dean."

__

"Heya, Cas..." Dean licks his lips, drags his eyes from Castiel's gorgeous face to his stupidly toned torso, openly leers at his bulge, then remembers his promise, and introduces Sam, "This is Sam, my brother."

__

"Nice to meet you, Sam." Castiel steps between their seats, braces a knee between Sam's spread thighs, locks a hand on his shoulder, and whispers against the soft swell of his earlobe, "Very nice." When he straightens, all fluid lines and grace, he tosses something on top of their drink tray, and the sun dims, eclipsed by Castiel's own brilliance. "I'll see you both later." It's not a question, but an invitation, and both brothers nod, prisoners to Castiel's unyielding gaze.

__

"Good." Castiel murmurs, squeezing through, trailing his fingers-tips across Dean's chin - a tease, a promise - then leaving without further comment.

__

Sam and Dean stare after him (slack jawed and stupid) then at the object on their drink tray (it's Castiel's key-card with the room number written on its surface) for a few seconds before their higher brain kicks in, snaps them out of their stupor, and launches them after him.

__

...

__

Dean is the first to reach Castiel's room (tripping Sam and shoving him out of the way while they raced down the hall) but it's Sam that gets to open the door; he won that honor by handily beating his brother in a game of, 'rocks-paper-scirrors'. 

__

Sam knocks before entering (his mother didn't raise a savage, after all) unlocks the door, then quietly, slowly, creeps in. "Ah, Castiel?" He calls out, freezing when he hears the tell-tale signs of a body settling onto a mattress, then a moan, soft and erotic as fuck, then stumbles out of the way when Dean pushes past him. 

__

"Holy fuck." Dean whispers, and Sam's breath catches, dicks going from a semi, to a raging-hard-on, in a nano-second; Castiel is laying in the middle of his bed, sheets puddled around his bent knees, stroking his cock in one hand, while fingering his hole with the other. 

__

"Cas." Dean says, in awe, in lust, walking right up to Castiel's large and inviting bed, and pulling him in for a hard kiss. "You're fucking beautiful." He whisper-hisses, mouthing hotly against Castiel's throat, then looking over his shoulder and throwing Sam a wink, a 'get-your-ass-over-here-and-fuck-this-guy-already', wink, because seriously, it doesn't get much better than this.

__

Dean shrugs out of his trunks (dick springing out, stiff and fat) climbs next to Castiel, then the mattress shifts, and Sam is there too, large hand braced on Dean's shoulder. "Come have a taste." Dean tells his brother, and Sam does, leaning past Dean, and replacing his brother's tongue with his own.

__

Castiel moans, mouth wide open, legs spreading even wider for his guests, and Dean stares, rakes hungry eyes over his brother's muscular physique, over Castiel's thick cock, and he thrills, body vibrating with the greedy need to fuck them both. "Where's," he swallows, takes a deep breath, "where's the lube?" But Castiel can only point in its general direction, unable to speak with Sam's tongue in his mouth. 

__

"I'll get it-" Sam gasps, falling back and breathing hard. 

__

He rolls out of the way and Dean promptly takes his place, kisses Castiel passionately one more time, then replaces his tongue with his dick. "Suck on this." He hisses, cupping Castiel's skull, and bucking his hips.

__

"Oh fuck..." Sam falls back on his haunches and grabs his dick, more turned-on by the sight of his brother getting head from a gorgeous guy, than he cares to admit. He places the lube nearby, and watches, giving himself several satisfying tugs while his eyes roam from Dean's parted lips to his dick, lustfully lingering there to marvel at its girth, its dusky pink color, and the way it pumps in and out of Castiel's mouth; Sam can't wait for his turn. 

__

But there's one thing he wants to try first, something he's fantasizes about his whole life, almost daily since puberty: sucking dick. And now is his chance.

__

Crawling between Castiel's bent knees, Sam parts his lips, and drags his tongue the long length of Castiel's cock. "Oh my god..." He exhales, lapping at the head, because it tastes incredible - a sweet-bitter tang on his tongue, a heady scent that makes his head feel fuzzy, and he wants more. And Castiel gives it to him, brackets Sam's head between thick thighs and fucks his mouth while sucking on Dean's dick. 

__

Then Dean calls Sam's name, an insistent possessive growl, and Sam pulls off, grabs Castiel's cock and starts stroking it. "Fuck-" Dean curses, ridiculously aroused by his brother and by the delicious heat surrounding his own dick. "...gonna cum-" he warns, embarrassingly close.

__

But Castiel shoves him off, grits, "Don't you dare." Then reaches for Dean's dick and squeezes the base, staving off his orgasm, and daring Dean to cum. "One of you is fucking me first." He states, voice wreaked, deep and rumbly from sucking dick, but his tone is 'matter of fact', like Dean's dick isn't pointing directly at his mouth, or his cock isn't currently imprisoned in Sam's fist. "You both are." 

__

"Yeah-" Dean gulps, and Sam nods, because they want that too, and if they have their way, more than once. "Come here." Dean says, and with Sam's help, maneuvers Castiel onto his knees and elbows (Sam kneeling in front, Dean, a solid weight against his rear) and Castiel braces, because he knows what's coming next. 

__

Then Dean spreads Castiel's cheeks, laying him bare for Sam's inspection. "Like what you see?" He asks, thumb teasing at the shivering man's rim.

__

A sharp intake of breath. "Y, yeah-" Sam stammers, dick rock-hard and heavy in his grip. "...he's...perfect..."

__

A soft laugh. "That he is." Dean replies, words barely audible, at least to his own ears; it's impossible to hear anything above the thundering beat of his own heart. "Gorgeous." He adds, bending low to bite Castiel on the ass, then even lower to mouth praise against the delicate flesh in between. "Mmm..." He hums, licking his lips, "tastes good, too." 

__

"That...that's so...hot." Sam gasps, because _holy shit!_ And he means it, too. Not because he's never been exposed to man on man sex before, but because he has, and is well versed in all of its glorious stages; he's binged watched enough gay porn to know what he likes, and what he wants. And watching his brother eat out a guy - lips pursed, tongue pushing past Castiel's pucker - is definitely in the top three.

__

"Heh," Dean huffs, lips spit slick, and puffy, straightening to get a better look at his brother's expression. But instead of meeting Sam's eyes, Dean is treated to a full frontal of his brother's enormous erection. "Holy shit," Dean gasps, "Sam...bro, you're fucking huge." 

__

Sam preens, chest puffing up, overjoyed, and more than a little bit relieved that Dean isn't disgusted by...him; Sam doesn't know what he'd do if Dean rejected him, again. "Ah, thanks." He replies, cheeks crimson, then adding with a boldness and confidence he absolutely does not feel, "You're not so bad yourself." And because this is really happening, and there's no turning back for either of them, Sam throws caution to the wind, swipes up a pearl of pre-cum from the tip of his own dick, and bravely presses it between Dean's lips.

__

Dean's mind short-circuits and his heart thuds thickly. He can't believe this is really happening. But it is; the cloying taste of his brother's cum on his tongue is proof enough. "Sam..." He breaths out, using the weight of Sam's finger to ground him, to keep him from freaking the fuck out. 

__

"Was that okay?" Sam asks, terrified to know the answer, but at the same time, desperate to hear it, because he has to know, needs to know, that his brother wants this too. "Dean?"

__

Dean responds by closing his lips around Sam's finger and sucking it into his mouth, punctuating just how 'very okay' he is with all of this, by leaning over Castiel's body, grabbing Sam by the back of the neck, and bringing their mouths together. 

__

The world tilts for Sam and the room charges electric. 

__

He's missed this: Dean's mouth, Dean's hands on his body, and now can't get enough. Heads buzzing, bodies thrumming, Sam tangles his fingers in Dean's hair, and sets him on fire with the first slip of his tongue. And it's the greatest joy, the deepest relief, and when Dean whimpers, Sam's heart soars. 

__

"Dean..." He exhales, and Dean swallows it up, holds onto Sam for several seconds longer, then opens his grip and releases him (breathless, lust addled and dizzy with desire) to round on Castiel.

__

"It's Cas' turn." Dean announces, because he's desperate to fuck and find release. He lubes his dick, then presses the tip against Castiel's rim, prods impatiently at the springy flesh, but waits for Sam to catch his breath before pushing in. "Are you ready?" Dean asks, edgy, and Sam nods, short and sharp. 

__

They all hold their breath. 

__

Dean lines himself up.

__

Sam pries Castiel's lips apart with his thumb.

__

And a tremor zips straight through Castiel's body.

__

He sighs - a needy, drawn out, groan - then gags when Sam rams his dick down his throat. Sam is big, the biggest Castiel has ever had, and he tries to pull off, but then Dean sinks in, and Castiel trembles, pleasure spiking, pleasure everywhere, every last bit of him, shot through with pleasure, and he pushes back, tries to get Dean deeper. But Dean clamps down, stops him from budging, because he needs a moment to adjust. 

__

"Cas..." Dean sighs, breath shaky, ragged, dragging his palm over the round globe of Castiel's ass, while basking in his tight heat. When he looks up, Dean meets Sam's eyes. "Sammy-" he pants, not moving, but out of breath, easing slowly out, then pushing back in, slow, then faster, chest heaving, Dean thrusts, faster and faster and faster.

__

Sam is breathing hard too, lip caught between white teeth, fingers tangled in Castiel's hair, he leans over and kisses Dean again, sucks on his full bottom lip, a scrape of teeth on kiss-bruised flesh, and Dean mutters, "Oh...fuck-" and cums, hard and heavy, throbbing thickly inside Castiel for a long second, then pulling out and spurting the rest against Castiel's backside. 

__

Dean collapses beside Castiel (legs spread, dick glossy, coated in cum) and Sam pulls free, crawls between Castiel's ass, and Castiel stops breathing. 

__

"Jesus, Sam." It's the hottest thing Dean has ever seen, and his dick jerks against his thigh. "Get over here." He orders, and Sam obeys, crawls between his brother's spread legs, and kisses him, open mouth and dirty. 

__

And god it feels so good, Sam's solid bulk in his hands, a fucked out Castiel by his side, then Dean hooks an ankle over Sam's hip, and Sam lays on top of him, murmurs his brother's name, murmurs pleas against his lips, ruts against his spent dick, and Dean is overwhelmed. "Yeah." Dean swallows, because he knows what Sam is asking, but shrugs it aside, because it's too much to process right now, too much history for him to dissect at the moment. He'll deal with what this all means, later, because right now, he has a promise to keep.

__

"Sammy," Dean says, breathless, dropping his leg and steering Sam's attention to a prone Castiel, "whatcha waiting for?" Then he dips his fingers between Castiel's cheeks, pushes one digit through the clench of his anus, and Sam growls, pounces on Castiel, flips him onto his back, hoists his legs high in the air, and thrusts in. 

__

"Oh my god-" he grits, head thrown back, taking a deep breath, then slowly pulling out, "he's so...so, tight-" Sam takes another shaky breath, hovers over a stunned Castiel for an excruciating second, then punches back in, rattling the bed, the room, the hotel's very foundation.

__

And Castiel takes it, loves it, will easily cum (untouched) just from this. But then Sam pivots his hips, bends Castiel in half, rubs at his sweet-spot, and that's it, right there, an intense charge, an exquisite brush, and Castiel comes undone. "Sam-" he gasps, spasming around Sam, cumming all over himself, and then Sam's hips lock, balls pressed flush against Castiel's rear, and orgasms, fills Castiel to overflowing, then falls back when Dean tackles him. 

__

Sam grunts, spreads his legs, and Dean falls into their cradle. "Dean..." Sam sighs, back arching when their dicks touch, rubbing himself against his brother's erection, because he's still needy, he's still hungry, he still wants Dean.

__

"I know..." Dean whispers back, breath a hot caress across Sam's lips, endless want in his green eyes; Dean is desperate for Sam too. But right now, Castiel is freshly fucked and loose, and Dean is ready for round two.

__

"You're gonna go again?" Sam pants, grasping after Dean when he climbs off. 

__

"You fucking bet I am." Dean growls back, so aroused by Sam, by Castiel, by the sight of his brother's cum seeping from Castiel's rectum, that he's ready to burst. "Come here." He tells Castiel, roughly settling his long, pliant, limbs, on his lap, then punching in, thrusting into the sloppy mess, digging blunt nails into the firm meat of his ass, because Dean's need to cum is almost painful, like a physical ache clawing it's way out of him the same way it did when he was younger, when he was just a boy, when all it took for his prick to perk up was to be in the same room as his baby brother...

__

_Oh Fuck_

__

"Cas-" Dean kisses Castiel, all hunger and desperation, and Castiel responds in kind, throws his arms around Dean's shoulders and bounces on his lap, rides Dean towards his second orgasm, while Sam strokes himself back to life, and cheers them both on.

__

...

__

This feels good.

__

No, scratch that, this feels fucking great! 

__

"Oh fuck..." Sam grabs hold of the head bobbing between his legs and forces it to swallow him down. He's not gentle or tender, either, not after their fourth round, not after Castiel explained (in explicit detail) just how rough he likes it. 

__

"Cas-" Sam grunts, not at all surprised he's going to cum so soon (he fell asleep using Castiel's beautiful mouth as a cock warmer, after all, and it's wet warmth has been suckling him for as long as they've been napping). "Christ," he sighs, hips canting, he's almost there, "your mouth is so...so..."

__

"My mouth is so...what?" Castiel asks, heavenly face hovering an inch above Sam's. 

__

"Huh?" Sam's eyes snap open and they lock lips, tongues dueling, Sam grinds down, bounces on thick fingers fucking his hole (wait, when did that happen?) and gasps, because this it feels so, so...

__

_Perfect_

__

He pulses his hips against the stretch, against the burn, and blissfully rides this wave of euphoria while the suction around his dick intensifies. "Oh-" he exhales, mind a pile of goo, enjoying Castiel's mouth way too much to ask how this is all happening. And then it hits him. 

__

_Dean!_

__

"Dean-" he shouts, cumming so hard and so fast, it overwhelms Dean and he chokes. "Oh...fuck...Jesus..." Sam can't seem to catch his breath, but it doesn't matter, because a second later Dean is on top of him, pressing his lips against Sam's, and stealing what little oxygen is left, from his lungs. 

__

Sam returns his brother's fervor, spreads his legs in invitation, ruts against his erection, and hopes Dean understands what he's asking for. Dean does and replies with a curse, with a moan, mouths the words _'Soon'_ , and ' _'Patience'_ , against Sam's cheek, his neck, sternum, then latches onto a nipple, and rolls the hard nub between his teeth. 

__

Sam arches into the assault. "Finally-" he chokes out, and Dean chuckles. 

__

"Eager much?" He teases, but rolls off before Sam can retort. "Sam," Dean adds, tone tight, on edge, tugging at at his own rigid length while blatantly drinking in Sam's exceptionally sculpted physique, "get on your stomach." 

__

Of course Sam listens, and just like when they were little, turns over, presses his cheek against the mattress (head swooning from the intoxicating stink of cum, and dick, and sweat, emanating from the ruined sheets) and parts his legs, body vibrating while he waits anxiously for Dean to mount him.

__

Sam is so ready for _this,_ has been for decades. 

__

But it's going to end differently this time. This time, Sam is going to make sure Dean understands just how much he wants _this_ , just how much he wants _him_. Because jerking off to decades old memories of sharing a bed with Dean, of waking to the insistent press of his morning wood, of peeling out of his own sleep pants so Dean could fuck between his thighs, then work up a frenzied rhythm until he climaxed, is getting old. 

__

But that ends now.

__

"Dean..." Sam sighs, pressing forward and pitching his ass at a steeper angle, communicating with his body exactly what he wants from Dean. But instead of broad hands and tentative fingers, it's Castiel's experienced touch Sam feels press up close behind. 

__

"Cas?' Sam asks, but that just gets him a caress and a playful nip on the ass in response. Sam hums in approval, because he wants Castiel too, and can't wait to be fucked by his thick cock, to be pounded so hard he'll see stars, then feel the surge of warm cum coat his inner walls. Sam's mouth actually waters thinking about that: of being passed between both men, stuffed full, fucked with no respite, of Castiel leading the way, and of a fearless Dean making up for all of those lost years. 

__

Sam mumbles _'yes'_ , and _'please'_ , and _'I want this'_ , into the crook into his arm, then there's the wet drag of tongue from balls to anus, then the soft press of warm lips against his hole, and he sucks in a breath, pushes back, because he's hungry for what's coming next. 

__

"Relax" Castiel soothes, and eases a finger in. Sam gasps because it hurts, because it feels good, but then Castiel starts pumping it, ever so gently, ever so carefully, and quickly adds a second finger. Sam's toes curl, but this time the pain is bitter-sweet - a dull, bearable, ache, that throbs like a metronome from the seat of his balls to the tip of his dick. He sinks his teeth into his forearm and rocks back, wanting the stretch, embracing the burn, then a third digit follows, and Sam clenches around the intrusion, tries to hold still, to accept it, to relax into it, but the pain is red hot, and Sam whimpers. 

__

"S'okay, Sammy..." Sam feels Dean card nervous fingers through his hair, and presses into his touch, nuzzles his head against Dean's abdomen, presses his face against Dean's groin, and takes a deep breath. 

__

"That's it, Sam, breathe." Castiel's grip is tight on Sam's hip. "Trust me." He tells him, pumping all three fingers in gentle, careful, pulses - in and out, and in and out - steady and soothing, hypnotic and sensuous., and Sam exhales, a hot breath across Dean's dick.

__

"Cas..." Sam sighs, pain ebbing, pleasure blooming, his own dick filling, hanging fat and heavy between his thighs. Then a fourth finger nudges in, and Sam's body tingles from too much, too soon, but he quickly adjusts, and then Castiel picks up his pace, vigorously fucks him with all four fingers, and Sam shudders. 

__

"He's ready." Castiel growls to Dean, his own cock eager for Sam, weeping in protest. But this is Sam's first time, and it should be his first love, Dean, that fucks the virgin out if him. 

__

Dean nods, tugs teasingly at Sam's long hair, then takes Castiel's place. They trade several swipes of tongue while Dean tests his brother's limits with his larger, thicker fingers, inserting one finger right after the other, twisting and corkscrewing them until he's satisfied he won't hurt Sam. And Sam writhes throughout, body wracked with pleasure, making desperate, needy, little sounds, that shoot straight through the heart of Dean. 

__

"Remember to breathe." Castiel whispers against Sam's temple, dropping a kiss there, then the mattress shifts and Sam holds his breath, anxious, terrified, relieved. Then he feels Dean's hand on his ass, then the demanding, prod of his dick, and Sam grits his teeth, anticipating the pain, but hungry for it. When it comes (swift and searing) Sam cries out; it's bliss, it's relief, a hot, slippery, pleasure that he sinks into. He sucks in a breath, slowly exhales it, and a smug satisfaction washes over him, because his brother is finally inside of him, and Sam clutches on tight, never wants to let him go.

__

"Sam-" Dean holds his breath, holds onto his brother with both hands, tries desperately to hold it the fuck together, and despite the fact that his body (his fucking heart) is screaming at him to mount and to claim, to take, take, take, the one thing he's always desired, Dean doesn't. He takes a deep breath instead, luxuriates for a long, decadent, moment in this ultimate sin, in this sweetest taboo, and thanks god for letting him have this, for letting him have Sam, and for introducing Castiel into their lives.

__

"Relax..." Castiel shushes, and Sam moans. He cradles Sam's head in his lap, kneads the tensed muscles on his broad back, then grins with satisfaction when he feels them jump under his delicate touch. But this whole 'brother-fucking-brother', thing has him so aroused, and his head so painfully muddled, that he nudges his cock between Sam's lips, and urges him to suck.

__

Sam obliges willingly, greedily, and couldn't be more grateful. He wraps his lips around the bulbous head of Castiel's cock and starts sucking on it like it was a fucking pacifier, like he was born to do it, kissing and murmuring nonsense against the hard, velvet-soft, flesh, while his own dick grows harder despite the pain. 

__

"Good boy." Castiel says, pushing Sam's hair away from his face, meeting Dean's eyes (half lidded and glazed over) and nodding a command. 

__

Dean understands what Castiel is saying and swallows, the click in his throat, audible, pathetic to his own ears. "Sammy..." He sighs, dick flush against his brother's ass, and Sam grunts, grinds, and Dean loses his mind. Then a snap of hips, and Sam mewls, fucking mewls, because it fucking hurts. 

__

Sam wants to scramble away, but this is exactly what he's always wanted, what he's always dreamed about: ass full of dick, mouth full of cock, speared through, split in half, dick buried so deep, that any second now it's going to shoot straight through his throat and dock with the cock in his mouth. And his hole clenches, grabs onto Dean for dear life, he would fall forward if it weren't for Dean's fingers digging painfully into his hips. Then he starts to move, pumping his hips, matching his brother's thrusts, and Dean curses, picks up the pace, and fucks Sam harder.

__

"Sammy...you, you're, so...hot...so...hot..." But the angle isn't quite right, and the view, though hot-as-fuck, still not what Dean needs. So he pulls out and Sam's mind screams. 

__

But Sam needn't have worried. 

__

A second later his world is flipped upside down, and he's suddenly on his back, with Dean kneeling between his legs, and his dick, pointing right at its target. "Dean...what-" But then Dean's mouth is on his, then Castiel's, and Sam gives, and Sam takes, and then Dean is pushing inside him again, and Sam gasps, wraps his long legs around his brother's waist, and opens his mouth for Castiel's cock, desperate to be stuffed, to be full at both ends, again.

__

Unintelligible praise spills from Dean's mouth, but it's not just the tight clutch around his dick that has him muttering his devotion, it's also the elation derived from finally succumbing to his urges, of finally accepting the inevitable and embracing it, of joining with Sam, and of forging an unbreakable bond with Castiel. 

__

"Sam-" Dean wants to look his brother in the face when he cums. But Sam isn't looking at him, his head is turned at an angle, his neck corded from sucking, and his lips stretched wide around Castiel's cock. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-" Dean freezes, meets Castiel's eyes instead, and cums, pulses inside his brother for a thundering beat, then pulls out and marks Sam's dick with the rest.

__

Castiel's head falls back: he felt every thrust, every shift from Dean's hips, and when Dean came, Castiel felt Dean's cum surge through Sam's body, as if it were coursing through his own. "Dean-" he sighs, balls drawing tight, the pain-pleasure between his legs pushing him over the edge, and he spills, holds onto Sam's head until his cock is done throbbing, then pulls him off for a heated kiss.

__

"That was wonderful." Castiel tells Sam, and Sam grins up at him, lips deep pink, cheeks flushed, then Dean is lapping at the tacky mess on abdomen, between his thighs, around his dick, and Castiel rakes gentle fingers through his sweat dampened hair. And Sam hums, limbs heavy, head muddled, contentment washing over him, an unparalleled bliss in his lovers' embrace.

__

...

__

Dean feels good.

__

No, scratch that. Dean feels friggin awesome.

__

It's early, the sun still hasn't come up, and even though the room is swaddled in darkness, he knows (thanks to his internal baker's clock) that it's officially five am. 

__

He's over slept, but that's okay, because he's on vacation.

__

He's nestled between Sam and Castiel, stretches strong arms high over his head, and smacks his lips, smiling when he recalls the previous nights 'festivities': Sam and Castiel, Castiel and Sam, both at the same time, and incredibly, his dick jerks to life. 

__

He looks to the right of his pillow, and his heart thuds, it's weight almost unbearable; Sam is still deeply asleep, lips soft, brow smooth, content while sleeping under his big brother's care. Dean thinks he could die from loving someone so much. 

__

But then he backpedals, wonders, _'What the fuck have I done?'_ because this can't be right. Right? What he did to his brother was wrong. What he put him through, the things he did and made Sam do in return, are illegal, immoral, and just plain wrong. Right? 

__

Dean swore he'd never violate Sam like that again, never lay a finger on him. Not like that. But he's weak - always has been when it came to his brother - and now he's scarred Sam for life. Utterly ruined him.

__

Dean stares up at the ceiling, mutters curses at himself, because he's a monster. Sam is never going forgive him, that's for sure; Dean can bet on it. And why should he? Sam trusted Dean, trusted _his brother,_ and Dean betrayed him. Used him. Hurt and abused him.

__

Dean thinks he might vomit. 

__

No, scratch that, Dean is definitely going to vomit.

__

He looks over at Sam again and starts to sweat. But this time, instead of finding himself face to face with a man in his early twenties, Dean sees a little boy. 

__

A six-year-old only he could comfort after their father's death. 

__

A nine-year-old that stubbornly refused to sleep alone in his own room after their mother moved them into a bigger house. 

__

An eleven-year-old that clung desperately to Dean during those terrible midwestern storms, or right after a nightmare. A sweet little boy that would nightly (right before going to sleep) cover Dean with innocent, candy-coated, kisses. 

__

And a fourteen-year-old that would be his first...lover.

__

Dean's heart clenches. He needs to apologize, to beg Sam to forgive and forget. He'll start by giving Sam his share of their business, then move far, far, away and promise Sam he'll never have to worry-

__

"...Dean..." Sam sighs his brother's name, murmurs it repeatedly into his pillow, skates his hand, feather light, across Dean's midriff, then tucks in closer, presses sleep-warms lips against Dean's shoulder, and absently rubs his morning wood against his brother's hip.

__

_'Heh.'_

__

Maybe Sam isn't as upset as Dean thought he would be.

__

Well, thank fuck for that. 

__

Immediately Dean's trepidations dissipate, along with his self-hate, and just like old times, feels his own morning wood, grow. He places his hand atop Sam's and gently guides it towards his dick, spreading his thighs when his brother grabs hold, then gasping when Sam starts tugging. 

__

Dean sinks into his pillow, slowly pulses his hips, looks to his left, and smiles again; Castiel is pressed tight against his side - each soft exhale tickling Dean's ear - and Dean falls a little bit more in-love with him. Castiel is beautiful, stunning, to be exact, like a fucking angel, he's so fucking perfect, but then Dean huffs a soft laugh because there nothing angelic about the things they've done to each other. 

__

But fuck it, they had fun, no one got hurt, and as far as Dean is concerned, it was a necessary release. And besides, so long as they're all happy, and they all got what they wanted, then to hell with what society thinks; Dean never cared much for those sanctimonious fuckers in the first place. 

__

He reaches under the sheet and caresses Castiel's thigh, and Castiel's breath catches, eyes fluttering open. "Good morning, Dean." He says softly, voice sleep-gruff. 

__

"Morning..." Dean replies, leaning in closer, licking his way past Castiel's lips, and swallowing his soft moans. "You sleep well?" He asks, small smile growing when he feels Castiel's cock push up against him. "I guess thats a 'yes'." Dean chuckles, then he throws off the sheet and reveals what he and Sam are already up to.

__

"Good morning, Sam." Castiel props himself on his elbow and meets Sam over Dean's awestruck face. They kiss, open mouth and wet, lips plush, swollen from giving so much head, and greedily suck on each other's tongues.

__

Then Castiel kisses Dean, and Sam climbs to his knees, replaces Castiel's tongue with his dick, and Dean automatically starts sucking, stomach fluttering with arousal, because this is Sam, this is _his brother,_ and Dean is so fucking turned-on, that his dick grows iron hard. Then Castiel is lapping at the tip, getting it sloppy wet with his mouth, and Dean moans, gagging on brother's dick when Castiel straddles him, and slowly sinks onto his rigid length. 

__

And they groan, and they pant, each man desiring the other in equal measure, and it's beautiful, and it's perfect - brother fucking brother, a threesome with a gorgeous stranger, chance meetings where everyone gets what they want - truly the best vacation ever. 

__

...

__

They're spent (limbs tangled, room stinking of sweat, cum, and the heat of their arousal) and they drowse. Then Dean shoots upright, and both Sam and Castiel, startle awake.

__

"Dean," Sam yawns, "what the hell?" 

__

"Is everything alright?" Castiel asks, laying his hand on Dean's shoulder and massaging the large muscle.

__

But Sam isn't as forgiving. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." He gripes, scanning Dean for injuries, seeing none, then plopping back down. "Man, I was having an awesome dream."

__

"Sorry-" Dean exhales, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

__

"What's really the matter?" Castiel asks, brow furrowing in concern; he's known all along that their arrangement was temporary, and that after today, he will never see Sam and Dean again. It makes him sad, angry even, because it's not fair, and the fear that pools in his gut, the anxious knot that strangles his heart and suffocates his soul, is genuine. 

__

Dean laughs, but not meanly, "Why the sour puss, Cas?" He takes Castiel's face in both hands and drops a kiss on his brow, his temple, cheek, then mouth, not stopping until he feels Castiel's body loosen, and his lips soften. 

__

"I thought..." Castiel buries his face in Dean's neck, places a hand on Sam's hip, and sighs, "...I thought you might be regretting our time...together."

__

Dean can't believe what he's hearing. "Dude," he says, tone gone deadly serious, bed suddenly shifting when Sam sits up and wedges himself between them, "you are the best friggin thing that has ever happened to," Dean looks over at Sam, and Sam nods, "...to us." Dean sweetens the confession with a kiss, and adds, "Look, my 'freaking out' has nothing to do with you, okay. But Sam and I have a really important meeting in a little while, and," Dean gulps, stomach dropping, "we have to go." 

__

"Cancel it, Dean." 

__

"Sam, the whole reason we came here-"

__

"Was for a vacation." Sam reaches across his brother, cups Castiel's face, "And besides, we're still technically on our date."

__

Dean doesn't argue that, he has zero desire to part from Castiel's side, too. 

__

But... 

__

"Well, I guess, maybe we can...reschedule?" He shrugs, huffs, "And besides, I bet this genius baker isn't half as great as Charlie made him out to be-"

__

"Charlie? Charlie Bradbury?"

__

Both Dean and Sam do a double take. "Yeah." Dean replies, cautious, hopeful, because the world can't be that small.

__

"You know Charlie?" Sam asks, eyes bright, shining with understanding, and Castiel nods. 

__

"Yes, I met her here a few months ago. I baked her cousin's wedding cake." 

__

Dean throws his head back and laughs, delighted, then grabs Castiel and kisses him. "How fucking lucky are we, Sam?"

__

"The luckiest." Sam agrees, settling on Castiel's lap, and adding his tongue to his brother's.

__

"So, ah, Cas-" Dean says, suddenly bashful, and freaking nervous, which is weird, considering the past few hours. But Dean has every right to be scared, wary even, because what he's about to ask Castiel will change all of their lives, forever, "Um, Castiel," Dean pronounces his full name, grabs Sam's hand for courage, because this is serious, this is everything, "would you like to work with us?"

__

"You don't have to answer right away." Sam jumps in, adrenaline pumping through his veins, squeezing Dean's hand to hide the fact that his are shaking. "We know it's a big decision." He barrels on, swallowing down the copper tang on his tongue, he's that anxious. "So just, you know, take your time, and think about it. I mean, we know you have your own business, and you don't need us, plus you'd be uprooting your entire life by relocating to a small town-"

__

"Yes!" Castiel blurts, without hesitation, without a doubt in his mind, yes, yes, yes, with his whole body and soul, yes. 

__

"Yes?" Dean repeats, because it can't be that easy.

__

But it is.

__

Castiel nods, says it again for good measure, "Yes." Then adds, "I would love to work with you both." Then he seals the declaration with a kiss, first Sam, then Dean.

__

"He said yes." Sam exhales, grinning like a dope, more relieved than he ever thought he'd be.

__

"That he did." Dean smiles, grateful and overwhelmed by this monumental turn of events, overjoyed when he looks at Sam and sees his own happiness reflected in the brightness of his brother's eyes. "That...he did." 

__

Then Dean nods and throws Sam a wink, wordlessly communicating to his brother what this means for him, for them, and when Sam grins and nods in reply, they pounce on Castiel, attack his mouth, his neck, brand his skin with their lips, with their hands, swear vows and make promises they know they're going to keep, because this is really happening, and they couldn't be happier.

__

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun. So much sex!!! Gallons of cum. I do not envy the hotel's cleaning staff.
> 
> Let me know what you thought about it.  
> ^_~


End file.
